


Cause For Celebration

by Eliyes



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, Pon Farr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 18:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliyes/pseuds/Eliyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of <i>Star Trek: The Motion Picture</i>, Jim and Spock discuss where their relationship is going. In bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cause For Celebration

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Livejournal November 4, 2009.

 

Jim Kirk knew he had cause for celebration. Not just because Starfleet Command had decided that his rank was no impediment to giving him the _Enterprise_ again, complete with all the senior officers he'd requested back -- although many a glass had been raised to that, as well as to the salvation of Earth, and the (hopefully wondrous) ascension of Decker, Ilia, and V'Ger to a higher level of existence. No, the cherry on top of the whole situation was, to Jim, having Spock back -- not only on his bridge, but also in his bed.

But even as he enjoyed the afterglow of their most recent round of lovemaking, Jim was plagued by a persistent, niggling worry. Deciding to get the problem out in the open, he rolled onto his side and said, "Spock."

The half-Vulcan turned towards him, his silky hair in disarray for once. Sensing the working of Jim's mind, but not its direction, Spock lifted an eyebrow inquiringly. Jim smiled fondly even as he mentally tossed aside a dozen ways to broach the subject, from the light-hearted to the solemn.

"If I remember correctly, in a few months it will have been seven years since your first _Pon farr_ ," he finally said, gazing steadily into the dark eyes that watched him from the next pillow over. "What then, Spock?"

"Your memory would seem to be accurate," Spock replied, then paused. Jim recognized the subtle change of Spock's expression; realising he was attempting to find the right words, he waited him out.

At last, Spock confessed, "I do not know how to answer your question, Jim. What precisely do you mean?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, Jim observed Spock's face carefully from beneath his lashes. He had discovered on Ardana, much to his surprise, that Spock wasn't quite so reticent on the topic of _Pon farr_ as he was when he'd been going through it. Possibly it was because he was able to better control his feelings about the whole thing when he was his usual self, and perhaps having experienced it had helped him to accept that part of his Vulcan heritage. (Then again, he'd only just returned from a two year attempt to purge himself totally of emotion...) Jim suspected that this was a delaying tactic. Normally he did his best to respect Spock's boundaries, but damn it, he needed an answer!

"Do you have a plan?" he tried asking. "Obviously T'Pring won't be involved; do you have some other possible mate?"

Spock gave him an unreadable look.

"Do you wish me to take another mate?"

"Well, I don't want you to _die_ ," Jim responded with some exasperation, "and I certainly don't intend to fight you to the death again!"

"Is there some reason _you_ could not be my mate?"

Jim stared at Spock in mute surprise for a long moment. Eventually, some subtle relaxation in the half-Vulcan's face made Jim realise they'd been in the grip of a misunderstanding.

"I had thought," he managed to say when he found his voice again, "that 'the time of mating' constituted a biological imperative to _reproduce._ For which you would need a female partner."

Now Spock looked amused, which Jim could almost have gotten mad about, except that the way his eyes shone when he got that particular look on his face was one of the first things Jim had really loved about Spock. He could feel his own face shifting to a warmer cast and didn't fight it.

"Jim, when T'Pring spurned me, I would have asked -- no, I would have _begged_ you to mate with me. However, one of the guards barred my way, so I instead entered _plak tow_."

"I remember that. Why did he...?"

"He was present in order to protect T'Pau. It is likely he misinterpreted my approach, since you were standing next to her."

Jim's mind reeled. He and Spock could have become lovers _then?_ He had a sense of time wasted -- and yet, thinking back, he wasn't sure either of them have been ready for that step at the time. He came back to the present when Spock gently took his hand.

"I do not judge myself a suitable candidate for parenthood," Spock confessed quietly, and Jim thought he could see the logic in it. Not because Spock was once again serving on a starship, but rather because he had just abruptly had his perspective on the relationship between logic and emotion in his life dramatically upset. He needed time to settle.

And of course, he'd been _extremely_ awkward with babies whenever Jim had seen him around them. He had to repress a chuckle remembering Bones trying to instruct Spock on how to hold an infant. The instinct to hold it in turned out to be a good one.

"Do you wish to be have children?" Spock asked, very seriously.

"It's... not necessary, Spock," Jim said. He entwined their fingers together more intimately and explained, "The Kirk name isn't in danger of dying out, you know. Sam -- Sam is gone," Jim acknowledged, swallowing a lump in his throat brought on by mention of his brother, "but Peter was his _youngest_ boy, and he's recently turned seventeen. The oldest is married now, and expecting a baby soon." He made a face that was equal parts smile and grimace. "I'm going to be a great-uncle. I feel so old."

Up went Spock's eyebrow.

"You are not yet forty; hardly 'old' for a human, Jim. The present average expected life-span for your species is over a century."

"Maybe," Jim allowed, a more honest smile glimmering in his eyes.

"If you doubt me, I suggest you consult with Dr. McCoy," Spock continued tartly.

"For his medical opinion, or because he's forty-four?" Jim asked teasingly.

"Either. May I also remind you that Mr. Scott will be fifty next year?"

"Oh, Scotty's _never_ going to die," Jim said confidently.

"Unlikely," Spock said, which could have been agreement or the opposite. Before Jim could ask, he was distracted as Spock stroked two fingers along his palm. A shiver went up Jim's spine, not only from the tactile effect that the unexpected caress had on him, but also because he knew it was as intimate as a kiss, to a Vulcan.

He reciprocated, trailing a touch along Spock's hand until the tips of their first two fingers touched. Softly, slowly; this was a show of affection, not a seduction.

But Spock doggedly returned to an earlier turn of their conversation.

"Though your brother's genes come from the same sources, and I consider him to have been an intelligent individual, talented in his own way, he is not _you._ " He clasped both of Jim's hands between his own, a very human gesture. "Your nephews are Kirks, and yet they are not truly _your_ inheritors, Jim. You have many traits which any offspring of yours would be fortunate to inherit."

"Spock. Spock. If you quote Shakespeare at me, I will push you out of the bed."

There were two sonnets in which that long-ago poet made the same argument: one man trying to persuade the other to have children, so that the beauty and other qualities his lover so admired would live on when he was dead. Jim's appreciation of Shakespeare's works had diminished after he found Kodos the Executioner working as an actor in a theatre troupe that specialized in the Bard's plays.

Besides, it ended badly for the lovers in the sonnets.

Spock said nothing, and Jim sighed.

"What I am about to tell you, I have only ever told one other person." He flicked a glance at Spock's face, and then away. "Bones. And I swore him to secrecy." He took a deep breath, and then let it out as another sigh.

"Spock, I have a son."

Jim felt the body lying next to his own go tense.

"I've never met him," he continued quietly. "I promised his mother I wouldn't try to be a part of his life."

"Why?"

"She wanted it that way. She has her reasons, Spock, and I -- I respect her choice." Jim pulled one hand free to rub his face. "She's a good person, a good mother. He's probably better off..."

He looked directly into Spock's eyes.

"His name is David. He's, oh, ten years old by now, I think."

Spock gazed back. Jim thought his eyes seemed soulful, sympathetic. Maybe that was actually something Spock was projecting telepathically; they were touching skin-to-skin in a number of places, after all.

"He does not know you are his father." It wasn't a question, but Jim nodded anyway.

Spock mused, "She does her son a great disservice, this woman. Starfleet, at least, sees you as an excellent role model. I would tend to concur."

Jim felt his cheeks heating. Spock gave him a speculative look.

"Do you not wish to raise one or more children of your own? I believe you would be a good father."

"No. Are you kidding? I'm a terrible _uncle_. I -- when would I have time, Spock? I would have to give up the _Enterprise. Again._ "

Spock's fingertips ghosted along Jim's jaw, and a thought from him tickled Jim's mind, echoing back a memory -- a loving, beautiful woman, and the life growing inside her; the child and woman both lost forever, a terrible price to pay to save the world that killed them.

Jim closed his eyes tightly, but he couldn't shut it out. If he ever again became a father, he suspected he would be unbearable for whoever the mother was. No, he had lost one wife, and the fact of her pregnancy at the time she died would quite possibly taint any future attempts at parenthood. For the memory of Miramanee, for the sanity of that hypothetical future woman, and for the sake of this precious thing between him and Spock, Jim knew he would never again want to be a father. He held onto that knowledge, feeling it in his bones, until Spock received the message.

Lips brushed tentatively against Jim's mouth. He opened his eyes, surprised; human-style kissing was not something Spock had initiated with him before.

"If neither of us are therefore likely to seek a relationship with a woman," Spock said, his gravely voice sending a thrill up Jim's spine again, "I would have you as my bondmate."

"Is that -- are you _proposing_ to me, Spock?"

"That is the human equivalent, yes." Spock shifted his shoulders so their faces were closer, hands tangling again with Jim's. "We could schedule leave together in advance of my next _Pon farr_ and have the _Koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ ceremony to... officially consummate our relationship." Spock paused long enough for Jim to pointedly look down the bed at their state of undress, then continued. "I trust you would not choose the challenge."

Jim gave Spock a brilliant smile at the word 'trust', which quickly turned mischievous. He deliberately wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling them closer together.

"Spock, I find life's challenges more _interesting_ when you're around." He planted a squeaky kiss on the tip of Spock's nose. "I accept."

They tabled the rest of the discussion until morning; there was more celebrating to do first.


End file.
